


Snakes, Snails, and Dragon Tails (That's What Little Boys Are Made Of)

by ConsultingWriter



Series: Home Fires [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baby!Hamish, Dragon!Lock, Dragon!Sherlock - Freeform, Fluff, Half-Dragon!Hamish, M/M, Parent!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingWriter/pseuds/ConsultingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish has a new found fascination with his tail, and with Sherlock's. John finds the entire thing hilarious.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Slowly, the older dragon tried to work his tail from the death grip it was held in but he froze when the babe pulled back far enough from the tip of the tail to hiss in displeasure before going right back to gnawing on the scaled limb.</i><br/>“Hamish,” John scolded, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice “No, no, you can’t bite at Papa’s tail.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes, Snails, and Dragon Tails (That's What Little Boys Are Made Of)

**Author's Note:**

> Still willing to trade my first born for some art of Hamish (biting Sherlock's)
> 
> If you've got something you'd like to see, message me at NoSwordsForLittleDragons.tumblr.com

John laughed heartily as he watched Hamish crawl in a wobbly circle, one hand constantly reaching for his tail. The dark blue appendage was short, barely the length of Hamish’s forearm, but it was long enough to catch the babe’s attention when he’d rolled across his blanket earlier which led to the drakeling’s current predicament: trying to catch the wriggling limb. So far he hadn’t succeeded.

John’s laughter turned into gut-busting heaves when the babe overbalanced on one hand and fell, rolling onto his side with a frustrated look on his face.

The doctor slowly reached out and gently tugged on the tail, making a short ‘oh!’ sound. The babe giggled and reached for the tail on his own. He growled when his arms were stretched out all the way but were still short of reaching the blue tip. John chuckled and tugged on the limb again. This time Hamish narrowed his eyes and snorted, causing white puffs of hot smoke to curl from his nostrils.

The older blonde blinked and released his son’s tail to rock back on his heels “Sherlock!” he called, wiggling his fingers in front of Hamish’s face to distract the dragonling from his tail.

When silence answered his shout, John let out an annoyed huff but tried again; tacking a ‘get down here now’ to the end.

The dragon stomped down the stairs to make a point—John thought it was probably something about being interrupted, but couldn’t quite bring himself to care about his mate’s pouting—and stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room, arms folded over his chest.

“Our son can snort out smoke,” the doctor said plainly, rubbing the boy’s stomach while he gurgled, trying to pull his daddy’s other hand into his mouth to chew on; his teeth hadn’t quite cut through so John didn’t mind Hamish’s gnawing much.

Sherlock crossed the room and dropped down in front of his mate and drakeling. Crossing his legs he leaned forward, eyes scanning over his child carefully. Finally the detective sucked in a large breath, chest expanding noticeably, before letting it out in a slow but steady stream. Grey smoke gushed out of his nostrils at the same pace as the exhaled breath, looking like upside down geysers.

  When the flow ended the dark haired man leaned even closer to the babe, waiting to see what the hatchling would do.

The child scrunched up his face and John watched as the babe’s chest expanded the same way the older dragon’s had.

Nothing happened when the babe exhaled. His face screwed up and a whine bubbled up from his throat.

Sherlock rumbled out a soothing sound, petting lightly at Hamish’s head before sucking in another breath and repeating the process.

John watched in amusement as the babe’s face scrunched up in frustration when his second attempt failed.

The doctor held up a hand when Sherlock inhaled to repeat the process once more “If you’re going to do that again I’m going to need to crack a window.”

The older dragon nodded in agreement, but didn’t take his eyes from John.

The human rolled his eyes and pushed himself from the floor to open the window enough to let some of the smoke out of the room.

When he turned back to his husband and child he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Hamish had pushed himself up to sit in front of his Papa, hands gripped tightly around the older dragons burgundy tail, and mouth chewing on the tip. All the while Sherlock looked down at the hatchling, eyes frozen wide and mouth slack in shock.

Slowly, the older dragon tried to work his tail from the death grip it was held in but he froze when the babe pulled back far enough from the tip of the tail to hiss in displeasure before going right back to gnawing on the scaled limb.

“Hamish,” John scolded, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice “No, no, you can’t bite at Papa’s tail.”

The babe grumbled but didn’t release the tail, nor did he cease his chewing. Sherlock let out a short smoky snort—not unlike the one Hamish had let out earlier—and glared lightly at the top of his son’s head.

“Why is he chomping on my tail John?”

John laughed, muffling it when the dragon switched his glare from the baby to him, and tried to explain “He was chasing his own earlier, I think he sees it as a toy.”

The dragon huffed “Well it’s not a toy, it’s a tail, and mine is now covered in drool and it aches.”

John smothered another bout of laughter and bent to scoop up his child, pulling him away from his father’s tail, and propped him on his hip.

The drakeling looked at his daddy and huffed out two thin curls of white smoke at him to show his displeasure.

Sherlock chuckled when John used his free hand to wave away the smoke “It seems our child is annoyed with you. What a unique way he has of showing it.”

John could practically see Sherlock puffing up with pride—the detective had always had an interest in ‘unique’ and ‘strange’ things, and knowing that his child was out of the ordinary was an obvious source of pride—and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well, that’s nice and everything, but what if he does that in front of other people?”

Sherlock frowned “Who would see him?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lestrade in the Yarders?”

The frown deepened “Why would they ever be around Hamish? They’re not meeting our child; they’ll infect him their stupid.”

John sighed “Sherlock, they’re going to meet him sometime; one day, Lestrade’s going to pull a ‘drugs bust’ or burst in because you’ve ignored a text, or something and they’ll meet him.”

Sherlock huffed unconsciously and dark plumes of grey rushed from his nostrils and John chuckled.

“Well, I see where he gets that from then.”

Sherlock glared lightly and turned his nose up, causing Hamish to giggle before snorting out his own puff of smoke as well.

Sherlock looked down his nose at his son for a moment before a smile broke out on his face. He snorted once more and chuckled deeply when Hamish copied him.

This pattern continued on for another minute or two before John broke in “Okay, okay, that’s enough you two, someone’s going to think we’ve set the flat on fire with all the smoke pouring out of the window.

Sherlock shrugged “I’m sure they’ve thought worse of us before.”

John hummed in agreement, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth “Oh most assuredly, it wouldn’t be that far of a stretch from some of the experiments you’ve done to setting the flat on fire anyway.”

The dragon pouted and lifted his tail to prod childishly at his mate’s face. In a surprisingly quick move, Hamish lashed out, catching the burgundy appendage in his hands and latching on to the end of it with his mouth once more.

John laughed at Sherlock’s groan and reached out to stroke his cheek gently “What a good Papa you are.” He murmured, sliding his hand down and cupping the back of the detective’s neck, using it to pull the taller man forward and down.

“A very good Papa indeed,” the human breathed over the dragon’s lips before catching with his own in a short but sweet kiss.

Hamish’s own tail swayed from side to side in a little dance, expressing his happiness at being snuggled between his parents.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Review and let me know what you think!


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